Kathleen Kroll Poet Free verse

Innocents

Caught in a madman’s rage
Life distorted
Normal becomes abnormal
Sense becomes senseless
Logic disappears
Flowers appear
Springing from the bloody ground
Can they hallow the soil?
In this eternal struggle
Of good versus evil
Love versus hate
The decision is yours
Choose wisely among
The images you resurrect

Will you choose 
Flowers
Living symbols
A kaleidoscope
Of changing patterns
Varied hues of
Red, yellow, orange and purple
Delicate and wild
Single and in bouquets
Spreading as grief flows 
Like blocks in a quilt 
Standing at attention
Mirroring internal struggles
First fear, grief and anger 
Later, forgiveness

Will you choose
The glint of sunlight on steel
The thunder of bullets
Tearing flesh
Faces contorted 
Bodies crumpled, discarded
Left where they fall
As a fetus without a womb
Animal sounds emerge
Without a home to go to
Echoing through
The community, the nation, the world

Hate as strong 
As the gun’s metal,
Contains within its chambers
Limited volleys
Once expended
Its power dissipates

Love, as delicate 
As the flowers’ petals,
Conceals within its pods
Seeds
As infinitesimally small
As grains of sand
Stretching
Through space and time

Imagine 
Nature choosing for you
After hate’s missiles end
Love’s seed sows itself
Endlessly

Norway – July 2011
Third version September 2011
Fourth version Oct

KDK

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Sam Toil April 10, 2016 at 7:32 PM Kathleen, Thank you for recommending this wonderful poem! It is so visual...and visceral. The contrasting imagery is breathtaking! I love so much how you contrast the hard metal of warfare with the soft breath of the petals of flowers. Alas, my poem (A Time Between Gods) upon which you commented, is pessimistic...yours is optimistic..."Love's seeds sows itself...Endlessly". I so love your poem and hopefully shall never forget it....Sam Kathleen Kroll April 11, 2016 at 5:08 PM Thank you so much, Sam. I think we are on the same wavelength. This event triggered so much sorrow and horror. Thank you for keeping the thoughts about the children alive. There have been so many incidents. So glad that my poem was meaningful. Kathy